


Hysteria

by noxeulalie



Category: MS Paint Adventures, Problem Sleuth (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-30
Updated: 2011-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-28 13:05:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/308165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noxeulalie/pseuds/noxeulalie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he walks into the bar you can tell he’s having a bad day. The way his shoulders are slumped and his hat is ever-so-slightly tilted off kilter on his head are huge tip offs, and you’ve got a gin ordered for him before he even sits down next to you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hysteria

**Author's Note:**

> A friend and I were talking about how Hysterical Dame and Problem Sleuth would be precious darling adorable moirails, and I had a 5 hour car ride ahead of me, so I wrote this.

     When he walks into the bar you can tell he’s having a bad day. The way his shoulders are slumped and his hat is ever-so-slightly tilted off kilter on his head are huge tip offs, and you’ve got a gin ordered for him before he even sits down next to you.

     You’re feeling oddly calm tonight (probably thanks to the two martinis you had earlier), so you’re not too worried when you ask him what’s wrong.

     “Botched a case,” he replies, taking the gin from the bartender and downing it in one go. He orders another one, then continues. “Thought I was doing’ some routine info gathering. Guess I wasn’t.”

     “What happened?” You’re getting a little worried now, but nothing bad enough to trigger any sort of result on your Hysteria Meter.

     “I was diggin’ through some trash cans behind a club, right? Lookin’ for some receipts that might be incriminating, and some big muscle comes out the back door an’ starts tellin’ me to get lost or he’s gonna smash my head into the pavement. So I tried to lay on the pulchritude real thick, but the guy swings at me anyway!” He looks absolutely devastated, and at that point you know he’s just being dramatic.

     “So what? It was a little case, right? There’ll be others. A stud like you’ll always have girls knockin’ at your door.”

     “What if I’m losing my touch? What if I don’t remember how pulchritude even works anymore? Maybe I’m just a washed up old detective.”

     Your hysteria meter suddenly goes up a few notches.

     “Cut it out Sleuth. You are /not/ washed up and you /haven’t/ lost your touch. One bad job doesn’t mean you’ve forgotten how everythin’ works.” You hope Sleuth will see reason soon, but it seems that he’s set on moping tonight.

     “Oh yeah? Then how come that guy tried to deck me? I used t’be so good with convincin’ people to let me go, now I can’t even get a stupid piece of hired muscle to leave me alone.”

     Your hysteria meter rises another few notches. If Sleuth keeps this up you’ll…you’ll…Well, you may do something drastic.

     “You’re just bein’ dramatic for the sake of it now,” you say, throwing your hands up and sighing.

     “It’s not dramatic. It’s the truth. I’m washed up. Might as well rent my office out to the mob and call it a day. I’ll call Ace Dick and Pickle Inspector when I get home and tell ‘em what’s going on.”

     As he talks your hysteria meter just keeps going up, until it’s nearly maxed out. Before you know what’s come over you, your hand has darted out and slapped Sleuth so hard across the face his hat falls right off his head and onto the ground.

     Sleuth just looks at you in disbelief.

     The slap helped, but you’re still a little beside yourself as you speak. “It was for your own good, hun. I can’t have you talkin’ like that. I don’t want you actually goin’ through that stuff one day an’ endin’ up in a ditch or something I don’t think I could take seein’ you like that I—” You have to stop yourself from saying anything else because you can feel the tears welling up behind your eyes, and there was no way you were gonna start crying now. Then your point might not get across!

     You’re so preoccupied in trying not to cry that you’re pretty surprised when you’re suddenly got an arm around your shoulder.

     “I’m sorry,” Sleuth says, shaking his head an laughing, “Got kinda dramatic there didn’t I?”

     You feel yourself calm down exponentially, and your just sniffle and punch Sleuth lightly on the chest.

     “Damn right you did! Don’t you ever scare me like that again, got it hot stuff?”

     “Haha. Yeah. I got it.”


End file.
